


Behind the Masks

by BasilOuija



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask
Genre: Canon Compliant, Childhood Friends, Gen, One Shot, Origin Story, Pre-Canon, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:22:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23203891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BasilOuija/pseuds/BasilOuija
Summary: Before Majora became a demon, he was a god.  Before the Fierce Deity became a mask, he was a demon.  Together, they have a favorite game to play.
Relationships: Fierce Deity & Majora (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 35





	Behind the Masks

“Okay! Let’s play good guys against bad guys.”

The words of the masked trickster came as the echoing of ringing bells, joyous and pleasant, but a wee bit off, a wee bit hollow. His legs carried the momentum of his small body forward and backward like the pendulum of a great clock as he swung sprightly from the one of the highest branches of a lofty tree, with seemingly no regard for the dangers that doing so might pose.

“Oh, c’mon! _That_ again?” came the mildly annoyed reply from another in a space beneath him. This one wore a different kind of mask—the marks of a beast, though he in all other aspects appeared as nothing more than a mere boy. His disheveled, stark white hair stuck out against the natural colors of the surrounding wood, hands folded neatly at the nape of his neck, upper body lazily reclined against the tree’s wide trunk. A single, piercing red eye opened as he continued, half-groaning. “Can’t we do something else?”

In the blink of an eye, the masked one had stopped swinging; now, he sat perched precariously along that same branch, arms folded neatly across the tops of his knees. “What’s wrong?” he said, though his voice betrayed no sadness or concern. “Don’t you want to play? I thought you liked that game!”

“It’s not that I don’t _like_ it,” said the red-eyed one, stifling a yawn, “but every time we play, _I_ always end up losing.” He made to roll over onto his side in protest, but stopped when he felt a presence; sure enough, the masked one was now there on the ground, casting a shadow as he hovered over him enthusiastically. 

“Well, the bad guys _always_ lose,” came his cheery reply. Cheeriness that matched that of the mask he wore: the face of a young man, mouth locked in a broad, toothy grin, eyes closed blissfully and peacefully. A mask that had forever captured a moment of pure happiness. _His absolute favorite_. “That’s just how it works. Heh, heh!”

The red-eyed one exhaled in a deep huff, blowing strands of hair upwards and out of his face. Clearly, the impish character had entirely missed the point. “But _why_ ,” he began, standing up straight to face the other, “do _I_ always have to be the bad guy?”

 _That_ made the trickster stop dead in his tracks. “Hmm...” He took a beat and spun around, and in the next moment, his mask had changed; now, he sported the face of a bemused Goron child, his hand raised up about his would-be cheek, fingers tapping rhythmically along it as if deep in thought. “Hmm, hmm, hmm!” He disappeared and reappeared in multiple places, feet tapping, body rocking, arms gesticulating wildly—then, an epiphany! He reappeared in front of the white-haired boy, his mask changed once more; this time it was that of a wide-eyed, portly woman, her mouth caught open in realization and excitement. “Oh! I know! It’s because you’re a demon, and demons are usually the bad guys! Right?”

 _A demon_. Harsh words perhaps, but the absolute truth. His ivory hair and crimson eyes had been gifts from his mother, he was told. _A servant of the Goddess_. He had never known her—though, he had never known his father, either. But he didn’t need to know his father to know exactly what kind of man he was—or rather, what type of _thing_ , because _his_ gifts were far, far more apparent.

Indeed, it was the truth—and perhaps, on another day, in another place, with anyone else, it was a truth that would have stung. But the red-eyed boy had long grown used to the antics of his masked companion, and so instead:

He simply laughed.

“ _Pfffft_! Yeah, yeah, okay. We both know it’s only because _you’re_ a sore loser,” and he enunciated the _you’re_ with a well-timed jab at the woman’s nose. A wide grin graced his face as he spoke - nothing like the fixed grin of the mask the trickster fancied, but a bona fide, genuine smile, revealing a rather impressive set of canines underneath. “Besides”—and he took a moment here to forcefully point at himself with a thumb—“this _half_ -demon would be one heck of a good guy, if you ask me. Maybe even better than _you_.”

“Heh, heh! You really think so?” He was above him now, his body draped haphazardly along one of the tree’s lower branches, that happy, smiling mask of his returned. “In that case...how about...if you play the bad guy now, I promise I’ll let you be the good guy one day! ‘Kay?”

“Geez...” It was something that was inevitable, he knew, from the moment it had been spoken into existence. This game of theirs. _Bad guy or not_. A long, exaggerated sigh escaped from him as he collapsed onto the grassy hill below, the ghost of a smirk dancing at the corners of his mouth. Truth be told, it didn’t really bother him all that much either way. For a moment or two, he closed his eyes almost pensively—but the sound of something rustling soon caught his attention, and he looked up to see a smattering of leaves gently falling toward him, courtesy of the masked being he called his friend.

 _Friend_.

For how long, now, had it just been the two of them? For how long had they had only each other, when it seemed the whole world had turned against them? A foul, loathsome monster doomed the moment he had been born into this world, and a faceless trickster god who delighted in wearing the faces of others. _Outcasts_. Unwanted and misunderstood. Years spent haplessly, constantly running, causing no shortage of fear and trouble wherever they went. _Alone_. 

Until they had found each other.

_Of course I’ll play with you, you numbskull._

All the same, he had so far put on a show of indifference, and his friend’s words had struck a chord with him. _Could_ demons even be the good guys? He’d certainly never heard of such a thing. Perhaps he could be the first. Yes...he rather liked that idea. All he needed was the opportunity. He looked up once more, the slightest glimmer of a spark alit in his eyes.

“You _promise_?”

“Mm, hmm!” his masked friend chimed, appearing before him in mid-air, making a _X_ -shape with a hand across his chest as he continued. “Cross my heart!”

“Fine, then.” A wickedly devilish grin, dogged and playful, crossed his face. _Bad guy time._ “Get ready, Majora!”

And then the boy rapidly began to change: messy hair gave way to tufts of spiked white fur, before quickly spreading to cover the rest of his body; long, pointed ears sprouted up from the top of his head, hands and feet reshaping into massive paws, a tail now where there before had not been one; the face of a human child now nothing more than the long and gnarled muzzle of a wild beast, mouth furled up into a ferocious snarl, revealing the set of jagged and razor-sharp teeth that lay therein. His eyes—pure white and infernal—accentuated by the navy and crimson markings along them. _Father’s gifts_. Even standing on all fours, he had grown no less than three times in size; any mortal man would have fled at the mere sight. But here, there were no mortal men. Here, it was only the two of them—for this was _their_ playground.

And _gods_ , did they play.

A piercing howl, like a wolf on the night of the full moon, split the air around them—and just like that they were off, all sprinting and claws and bursts of brilliant light, verdant fields folding and shifting like mere paper in the wind to suit their needs, the sound of vicious, thunderous growls and gleeful, childlike laughter exploding into the stratosphere. Perhaps, one day, theirs was a promise that would be fulfilled. Perhaps, one day, the beast would be able to walk away from this game of theirs and say that, at _last_ , he had won. Perhaps—one day—they would be able to find out, together, whether or not a demon could truly be “good.”

But—for now—being the “bad guy” was more than good enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me preface this by saying that, while I know this piece isn't all that much on its own, I have spent the greater part of the last week co-developing a rather unnecessarily in-depth origin story regarding the events of _Majora's Mask_ that attempts to explain who Majora and the Fierce Deity were, as well as the relationship they had, and how the Happy Mask Salesman, Link, and the Skull Kid tie into their overarching story...which bleeds further into the mythos surrounding Hylia, the Chosen Hero, and the very existence of Termina itself. And, yeah, I _should_ have been working on my prequel _Twilight Princess_ story instead of writing this, but it is what it is, y'know? So here I am, throwing proverbial spaghetti noodles at the wall of motivation to see what sticks. Oops.
> 
> Anyways, I wrote this completely on impulse and I was expecting it to be only a drabble that I would maybe post on my blog (if anywhere at all), but it ended up being a tad longer than I expected. I fully plan to expand on these two in the future, and when I do, I'll slap this into a series. How did Majora become the foul, evil demon that we see him to be in the game? And how did the Fierce Deity become nothing but a mere mask? What do Hylia or the Happy Mask Salesman have to do with this any of this? I suppose we'll have to see!
> 
> Cliché title is cliché, but these are two characters who are _literal masks_ in the game that they appear, so I thought it all too fitting to pass up. Also, shoutout to Emi (co-developer who is completely at fault for all of this) and Flurrin (for helping me come up with a summary).
> 
> (This work was cross-posted on my LoZ Tumblr, [midzelink](https://midzelink.tumblr.com/).)


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